Lie Tastes so Sweet
by Katryna Black
Summary: Fresh out of a failed relationship, Hermione offers to help a wounded Remus Lupin and in a month learns more about the past, the future, and love than she ever cared to know. RLHG, Post-DH, Pre-Epilogue.
1. I

**Title:** Lie Taste So Sweet**  
Rating:** PG-13**  
Warnings:** Post-DH, Pre-Epilogue, non-graphic sexual situations, swearing, character death, and just not very nice people.**  
Summary:** Fresh out of a failed relationship, Hermione offers to help a wounded Remus Lupin, recently found alive, and in a month she learns more about the past, love, and the future than she ever cared to know.**  
Note:** Written for the RemusHermione Fic Exchange over on LJ.  
**Original prompt or request:** _Aurors Harry & Hermione are out on assignment, where they find a gravely injured Remus in the woods._

* * *

I.

It was one of those missions.

"Hold up!"

In and out in a flash, no reason to linger, no complications, no mess.

"Look, I said I was sorry!"

Like sex. Quick, painless, very little mess. Okay, maybe not like sex.

"Will you just stop and talk to me?"

Well, maybe like sex. Certainly messy.

"What's there to say, Harry?" Hermione asked, neither stopping nor slowing her pace.

"Plenty!" Harry called out, finally catching up to her. "Er, I think."

"There really isn't," Hermione said. "Now that Ron and I are no longer together-"

"Thanks for the heads up on that, by the way," Harry said as he rolled his eyes.

"-you can't be friends with us both. It's understandable, and it's fine."

"It's not fine!" Harry said, raising his voice above the comfort level.

It was one of those missions. Routine, by this point. Could be carried out with one hand tied behind your back and a blindfold over your eyes. There were still so many loose Death Eaters with large chips on their shoulders hiding in the shadows. The night just wasn't complete without at least five sightings to be investigated by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. This particular sighting was extra special, as it was tied in with a possible werewolf sighting. Hermione, needing something to stimulate her now empty social calendar, had been quick to volunteer for this assignment. Harry, apparently wanting to talk, volunteered as well.

Not that either Auror remembered they were on a mission at the moment.

"You've put me in a rather uncomfortable spot," Harry said.

"I've just given you an out," Hermione pointed out, still plunging forward into the woods. The sun had yet to set, so there was still enough light that they didn't need their wands lit.

"I don't want an out," Harry said. "I just… Bloody hell, Min, why'd you have to go and… and…"

"Ruin everything?" Hermione finished, her smile twisted into something that might have been regret.

Harry shook his head, the wording a little too harsh for his taste but somehow it was still fitting.

"I did think it through," Hermione said, her voice softening a little, her pace slowing. "I knew you'd have to choose, and I'm sorry to put you in such a spot. And you're right, I should have told you what was going on, but I didn't want Ron to find out that way, and there are no secrets between the two of you."

"There used to be no secrets between you and me," Harry pointed out, his hand finding hers briefly.

How long had they been alone that last year against Voldemort? Weeks, months? Hermione had never bothered to count; it had been too painful at the time to think of the time spent away from Ron. But, during that time with Harry, while nothing inappropriate had happened, _something_ had happened, and Harry had become the family she had given up. As it turned out, memory charms can be reversed and never fully repaired.

"Why?" Harry asked again. "What happened?"

Hermione met Harry's eyes and wondered, _How can this be explained? How do you explain simply falling out of love with someone?_

Before she could speak, another voice, from the west, tired and strained and just a little familiar, cried out, "_Petrificus Totalus_!"

If the spell had a color it would have been black, Hermione idly thought to herself as her arms snapped to her sides and her knees locked together. She briefly saw a look of horror cross Harry's face before she hit the ground, her eyes moving wildly in their sockets as she tried to see her attacker. Harry must have had the attacker in his sight, because he planted himself firmly in front of Hermione's frozen body, and Hermione couldn't see anything but the dirt stained edge of Harry's robes and the pine needles on the ground.

Karma. It had to be. The very first spell she ever cast that had the potential to harm someone, bless Neville Longbottom, now used against her in wake of Hermione harming the two people she cared about most.

Because, really, how does one just fall out of love with someone?


	2. II

II.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked as he knelt beside her. After defeating their attacker, he had cast the counter spell on Hermione. Her joints were sore and she was slow to regain feeling in her fingers and toes.

"Fine," she grunted raising a hand to her head. Pine needles and torn, dried leaves clung to the natural disaster that was her hair, but her head was still too blurry to think to brush them out. "What happened?"

"Not much, I'm afraid," Harry said, standing and offering her his hand to help her up. She accepted, and as he lifted her to her feet, he said, "Just try not to faint. I almost did."

"Why would I-" she started to ask but couldn't finish her thought as her eyes laid on the still figure laying just a few meters away.

"He was in pretty bad shape before, the spell he cast probably took all his energy and he passed out on his own. I did what I could for him," Harry explained, clearly all ready over the shock that now threatened to knock Hermione off her feet again. "He's still bleeding pretty badly, and he's burning up. I've alerted the others, they should be along shortly-"

Despite her shock, Hermione managed to peck Harry's cheek and say, "And to think, just a few months ago you couldn't do all that without someone holding your hand!"

Harry blushed lightly, more at the memory of his incompetence than her show of affection. Hermione trusted her legs enough to take a few steps towards their attacker, kneeling beside him and gently brushing his hair from his face.

"Are you sure it's him?" Hermione asked softly. His face was the same, if not even thinner and older than the last time she had seen him, dueling with a Death Eater, whose name escaped her, within the walls of Hogwarts. Like so many others, his body had never been found.

"That wound's from silver, Min," Harry said. Hermione peeled back the make shift bandages Harry had applied to get a better look. The wound, not deep at all but bleeding far too much, had a grey color to it, as if the pigment in his skin had simply disappeared.

"He probably didn't recognize us. His fever is so high, he's probably delirious," Hermione reasoned out loud.

"Or he's gone mad," Harry said. Almost two years had passed since Voldemort's defeat, which made it two years since he had probably watched his wife murdered before his very eyes, and two years running around Merlin knew where, probably on his own. Madness was a definite possibility, and unfortunately not a worst case scenario.

The trees rustled softly as two more wizards flew over them on their brooms, landing gracefully near them. Percy Weasley, unofficially an Auror but taking a reluctant break from his duties with paperwork to help with ridding the world of the leftover Death Eaters, strode over, flanked by none other than his brother Ron. Ron was careful to keep his distance, refusing to look at Hermione. Percy, on the other hand, came charging in with his wand raised.

"Why has the target not been properly restrained?" Percy practically roared, a spell nearly escaping his lips before Harry grabbed his arm.

"Don't! It's Remus!" Harry exclaimed.

Percy paused. "Remus Lupin? But, he was declared dead!"

"And his body never found," Hermione amended, reaching for her wand from where it was tucked in her robes. "_Accio_," she cast, catching the water bottle that flew to her hand from Percy's belt. She busied herself with trying to pour water down Remus' throat, although it was mostly in vain. At least she didn't have to meet either of the Weasleys' eyes.

"It wouldn't be the first time someone's returned from the dead," Harry reasoned, still restraining Percy. "Remember Luna Lovegood and Professor Flitwick?"

When the battle had been finished and the dead and living all counted for, Luna Lovegood and Professor Flitwick had been among the missing, and the missing were immediately counted as dead, more for the Ministry's sake than anything else. At the time, it had been easier to declare someone dead than missing, for 'missing' required search parties and investigations that the Ministry didn't have the resources for.

Luna Lovegood had been found not three days later at the place that used to be her old house, enjoying a cup of tea amongst the wreckage. The battle over, she explained, left her with no reason to remain at Hogwarts, and she had wanted to mourn her father in peace.

Professor Flitwick, on the other hand, had been the unfortunate victim of a strange spell that sent him hurtling to the Amazon. It took him three weeks before he found the means to contact Professor McGonagall. (Rumor was, he just wanted to enjoy a bit of vacation.)

"We need to get him to Mungo's immediately," Harry continued. "You and Ron keep scouting the woods, in case the werewolf and Death Eater sightings weren't related."

Percy hesitated, unwilling to take orders from someone younger, but knowing he had to because Harry was, technically, the head of this operation. Finally he nodded once, offering a, "See you back at Head Quarters."

With Harry's help, Hermione Levitated Remus to the portkey. Not once did she look at Ron, but his eyes bore holes in her soul all the same.


	3. III

III.

"It's a bit dusty," Mrs. Granger mused out loud, running a finger along the mantle piece above a much neglected fireplace. "And I'm sure the plumbing-"

"It's fine, Mum. Really. It's perfect," Hermione insisted, her eyes ignoring the cracks along the ceiling and instead focusing on the fact that the neighbors were a day's walk away.

Mrs. Granger stiffened slightly at the title. She remembered giving birth to a daughter, she remembered raising a daughter, she remembered her name was Hermione and looked exactly like the girl standing before her. But the emotions that go along with being a mother had long been lost.

But what to do with a daughter one should have felt unconditional love for? The answer had been clear for both Mrs. Granger and her husband – Give the girl whatever she fancied, hoping that materialistic love could replace parental love.

Nobody dare say out loud that they were all fooling themselves.

"Tell me again why you need to borrow the country cottage?" Mrs. Granger asked, knowing perfectly why but wanting to fill the awkward silence. The country cottage had been inherited from Mrs. Granger's mother, but along with her daughter had been forgotten until Hermione had come across the deed while helping clean house.

"An old friend of mine is about to be released from Mungo's, the hospital," Hermione answered automatically, glancing up the stairs. "He has nowhere to go, so I thought I might help him out, give him a place to stay."

"An old friend?" Mrs. Granger pried, wrinkling her nose at the state of the small kitchen.

"From the war," Hermione answered. She had moved from the stairs to the back room, where a door led to a very large back yard. She smiled and said again, "Perfect."

"Just a friend?" Mrs. Granger asked, sounding hopeful.

Hermione's smile wavered. "Just a friend."


	4. IV

IV.

When Remus Lupin had woken up at St. Mungo's, it had been nothing short of chaotic. The poor man had no idea where he was, who was at his bedside, or what the date was.

He screamed for Sirius, and later Harry. Hermione wondered why he didn't call for Tonks.

When he was calmed and his fever brought down, it soon became clear that the man was no more mad than Hermione herself, only disoriented and depressed. He spoke very little, asked very few questions, and barely ate what was given to him.

He asked once about Teddy. The boy was safe, living with his grandmother Andromeda Tonks, and the occasional weekend with Uncle Harry.

"Does he change?" Remus asked, showing a flicker of emotion: Fear.

"No," Harry answered with a smile. "I think he'd like to know you."

Remus remained silent.

The full moon was still weeks away, but the staff of Mungo's made it clear that despite Remus' condition, he would be discharged before then.

Hermione argued that Remus' silver poisoning would require weeks of Detox healing, and didn't the hospital have the proper facilities for werewolves?

No, St. Mungo's did not have the proper facilities, but perhaps a Magical Creature's hospital just outside of London would be more than happy to treat him…?

Harry had a flat with Ginny Weasley in the middle of the city, and Mrs. Tonks worried for the toddler in the house. Hermione, having shared a flat with Ron also in the city and crashing on Luna Lovegood's couch as of late, decided she would very much like to live in the country, what a coincidence!

"There's no such thing as coincidences," Luna said in that eerie voice of hers, and Hermione knew the point had been lost on the poor girl.

"It's not much," Hermione apologized as she led Remus into the modest cottage. "But we shouldn't be bothered too much."

"'We?'" Remus questioned, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glanced around the sitting room. He slouched, not from exhaustion as he had in his youth, but almost to make himself smaller and less noticeable.

"Would you rather be alone?" Hermione asked, surprised by his question.

"…No. It is your house, after all."

"Right. Well, the surrounding land isn't all ours, but the neighbors are a few kilometers in each direction, I don't think we'll have to worry about them. I went ahead and set the fireplace up for Floo, but only Harry and Mrs. Tonks know how to access it-"

"You've thought of everything, haven't you?" Remus turned to her, a small, peculiar smile on his face. It was the most his face had moved in near a month.

Hermione offered a much friendlier smile of her own. "Professor Slughorn, do you remember him? He's brewing the wolfsbane potion for you. Harry will bring that along when the time comes."

Remus' smile didn't change, but he did turn away to glance around the room again. "Such a clever little witch."


	5. V

V.

Hermione left him to his own devices until dinner. She had never been much of a cook, but managed to throw something together that maybe resembled stew. They sat in the sitting room to eat, because sitting at the table together was much too intimate for Hermione's taste.

Funny, she wasn't afraid to share her house with him, but couldn't sit at the same table as him.

The stew was horrid. Unlike during his stay at St. Mungo's, Remus ate all that was offered to him. There wasn't much to be said between them, so dinner was eaten in silence.

After dinner, she made to change his bandages.

"You don't need to do that," he said, shying away from her.

"Do you plan on doing it yourself?" she asked.

He gave in and removed his shirt, careful to watch the fire instead of her hands.

St. Mungo's had been kind enough to give Hermione the proper potions needed to treat silver poisoning, along with the warning that treating and curing were two entirely different things. He would need rest, proper nutrition-

"And the help of properly trained healers," Hermione had been quick to point out.

"Do you want the potions or not?" the healer snapped in return.

The wound, gaping just under his ribs on his right, looked larger than before, in Hermione's opinion, but having only seen it once before, she couldn't be certain. It had long stopped bleeding, but now oozed a yellow puss.

Infection. Hermione wondered if good, old Muggle antibiotics would help.

She wiped away what she could. Remus winced, but was still very careful not to look at her. She applied the potion – a thick, pink paste – and reapplied the magically adhering bandages.

"Maybe it needs to breathe," she thought out loud as she gathered up the dirty bandages.

"There's not much helping it," Remus shrugged with his left shoulder. "It'll disappear with the moon, or it will get worse. That's all."

"You could pretend to be optimistic!" Hermione chided.

For the first time, Remus met her eyes. They were dark and empty to match his voice as he asked, "Why are you here?"

Hermione, struck with something akin to fear, retreated to the kitchen.

He had a point. Why was she here?


	6. VI

VI.

Seven days. Seven days of silence and routine and Hermione was going mad.

Remus hardly said a word. Hermione offered very few, but couldn't he at least speak in return?

Work was boring. She confined herself to her desk with paperwork, because Ron volunteered for every mission available, and wasn't it natural to avoid him? Harry avoided her as politely as possible, but had taken to dropping little notes on her desk when passing by, occasionally sending them flying across the office.

"Hello, how are you?" "Lunch was gross." "How's Remus? Has he said anything?" "Ron's no fun these days, all he does is brood. Maybe he thinks it's a fashion statement?"

Harry could be such a woman sometimes.

Lunch with Luna was becoming annoying.

"How is your 'coincidence' working out?" Luna asked airily.

"Not a 'coincidence'," Hermione ground out.

"Obviously," Luna agreed.

Ginny was no more help.

"How do I get him to talk?" Hermione asked desperately.

"He doesn't talk?" Ginny echoed. "Have you tried bringing up Teddy?"

"That's the quickest way to shut him up," Hermione muttered.

"So he does talk!" Ginny said cheerfully.

Hermione went back to her tea, wishing that she had at least learnt to read the leaves at the bottom of the cup.

Nothing surprised her more than when, with an abrupt, "Ahem!", Hermione looked up to see Ron standing outside her cubicle, leaning on the flimsy paper barrier and pointedly not looking at her.

Why wouldn't people look at her? Was her hair that out of control?

"How is he?" Ron asked.

"Moody," Hermione answered. "Like someone else I know."

"Maybe he has reason," Ron spat.

Hermione bit back her reply about maturity and taking it like a man.

"So, uh, are you, y'know," Ron mumbled.

"Am I what?"

"Shagging him."

Hermione mourned the loss of her favorite inkwell alone.


	7. VII

VII.

"It's really nice out tonight," Harry said, leaning out the back door. "Maybe you should spend the night out there?"

"Like a dog," Remus grimaced, knocking back the wolfsbane in one gulp. "How fitting."

Hermione wanted to scream, _You'll talk to Harry, but not to me?_

"I didn't mean it like that," Harry said sheepishly.

"There's no other way to mean it," Remus joked, smiling. Smiling!

Hermione gathered up the dishes from dinner and tried very hard not to storm to the kitchen, tried not to throw the dishes in the sink, and tried very hard to scrub the stupid flower pattern off of a plate.

"What's wrong with you? Ron send you the bill for his shirt or something?" Harry asked from the doorway.

"I gave him that shirt anyway, he's more likely to just burn it," Hermione growled.

"Seriously, Min, what gives?"

More softly, Hermione said, "I invite him into my house. I give him food. I change his bandages. I give him his space. And he. Won't. Talk. To. Me."

"Er," Harry said, all speech momentarily leaving him. He scratched his cheek before saying, "Have you asked him why?"

Hermione glared hard.

"Um, guess I better leave, Ginny's probably worried, bye!" Harry rambled, running from the kitchen. With a flash of green from the sitting room, he was gone.

Hermione took several deep breaths before she remembered that she was a witch. With a quick spell, the dishes were clean and back in the cupboards. When she made her way back into the sitting room, Remus was still seated in his chair by the fire, and the look on his face conveyed that yes, he had heard everything.

But between Ron and work and _this_, Hermione couldn't care at the moment and made to go upstairs.

"This isn't easy for me," Remus said softly.

Hermione almost tripped on the stairs, shocked that he had actually strung together more than three words directed at her.

Recovered, she asked, "Why not?"

Remus paused, before standing and turning towards her.

"I think I will spend the night outside. Care to join me?"

Maybe she wasn't recovered, because she was almost floored at his offer. "Seriously?"

He shrugged, still with only one shoulder, and walked outside, leaving the door cracked open.

Hermione weighed her options, but it wasn't as hard a decision as she thought. A night outside with a tame werewolf, or curled up safe in her warm bed?

The moon crept out as she changed into her pajamas, and even upstairs and through a closed door, Hermione could hear Remus' cries, and the sound of his bones crunching and grinding into something inhuman. She had a flashback to her third year, and could still picture Sirius clutching a transforming Remus, and was her memory playing tricks on her or had he always been looking at her while he changed?

With a long whine, it was over, and Hermione grabbed the comforter from her bed and stormed downstairs and out the door. Remus, a hopefully harmless wolf now, was inspecting a tree with much interest. His head snapped up when she came out, and he trotted over to her as she sat down on the step. He whined again, nosing her knee.

"Oh, hush you," she said, wrapping the comforter around herself, leaning against the railing. Remus the wolf climbed up the three stairs before sniffing at the deck where she sat, curling up beside her.

As she drifted to sleep, his words echoed in her head. "Why are you here?"


	8. VIII

**A/N:** Eventually, I'll find the time to thank each one of you individually. Until then, thanks, you crazy kids.

VIII.

She woke in the morning when an owl dropped a letter in her lap.

"Called in sick for you, hope you don't mind," it read. "-Harry."

Hermione read it a few times before she realized that Harry probably knew something that she didn't. Nothing good could come of that.

Remus was already awake and sitting beside her on the step, leaning against the other rail. He had put his pants back on, and his shirt hung off his shoulders. He held his right arm away from his body, his left hand gently prodding at the unhealed wound at his side.

Hermione stood a little too quickly, and when she found her head again she went inside and grabbed the healing potion. Sitting back down beside him, she quietly began to apply it.

The yellow puss had disappeared, which was good. But it was still a gaping wound, and even more of the surrounding skin was graying.

"Can't be helped," Remus said, his voice strained and tired.

"There'll be other moons," Hermione said hopefully. Remus gave her a strange look, and Hermione wondered why she was trying so hard to believe his lie about the moon healing him.

She helped inside to the sofa, where he stretched out and covered his eyes with one arm. As she covered him with her own comforter, he whispered, "Why did you lie for me?"

"I'm sorry?" she asked, not sure what he was talking about me.

"Your third year," he said, licking his lips. "Why did you protect me?"

Hermione paused as she thought about it, and he continued, "I never asked, never really thought to-"

"You were a good teacher," Hermione answered. "The best. I wanted to believe that you were a good man, too."

Remus chuckled sourly. "A good man?" He turned his head into the back of the sofa. "And here I thought you were a clever witch."

Remus was still asleep when Harry Floo'ed in with the second batch of wolfsbane that afternoon, and Hermione cornered him in the kitchen.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Harry, there was no other way to put it, looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"I don't know," he answered. "What am I not telling you?"

"Why'd you call in sick for me today?"

"I just- I figured you'd stay up with him all night. I mean, it's what you do, Min."

"Well, I didn't stay up all night, I probably could have worked," she said, ignoring the ache in her back and neck. For some reason, she suddenly felt very young, like a child caught in a lie.

Harry scratched the back of his neck, before very quickly blurting out, "Ron's a mess. He's totally lost without you, and I hate to ask, because I'm sure you had your reasons, but would you ever consider taking him back?"

Hermione stared at Harry as if he had two heads. "Harry," she said.

"Yes?" Harry asked hopefully.

"He accused me of shagging Remus."

Harry swallowed hard as he processed this information, apparently deciding not to comment on it. "You never did tell me why."

Hermione shrugged as she leaned against the much neglected and unused table. "You wouldn't understand."

"I don't understand a lot of what you say," Harry admitted with a smile. "But, seriously. Try me."

Hermione looked at him and thought hard about how to word her answer.

She gave up, saying, "It's not like I meant for it to happen. I just wasn't in love with him anymore."

"Just like that? You don't love him at all?"

"It wasn't over night, if that's what you mean. And I still love him, I just… I'm not iin/i love with him."

Harry shook his head. "What'd he do?"

"Nothing!" Hermione was quick to answer. "He didn't do anything… It really was me, as cliché as that is."

Harry sighed and glanced at his watch on his wrist. "Bloody hell, I'm going to be late. 'Date night' and all. Make sure Remus drinks this, would you?"

Hermione smiled in relief. The interrogation was over. She pecked Harry's cheek and said, "Give Ginny my love."

Remus was already outside on the small deck, gazing at the sky. He quickly swallowed the potion with a wince, and as Hermione went back inside to make dinner, he said, "I understand."

"Understand what?" Hermione asked. Remus answered her with silence.

She spent the night on the deck again, this time with Remus' canine head in her lap. She scratched his ears and wondered why she got along better with the wolf than the man.


	9. IX

IX.

Hermione made an effort the next day to show up at the office. Her aching back called for several trips to the lavatory or the staff kitchen for tea, to keep stretching as staying seated for too long was too painful. The look of death from Ron wasn't helping matters any either. Not to mention the fact that it was difficult for her to concentrate on her paperwork (Difficult for Hermione Granger to concentrate! Blasphemy!) What had Remus meant? What did he understand? She ended up leaving work early in the afternoon.

Remus wasn't on the couch, so she quietly made some tea and crept upstairs to see if he was awake. Tea was always a good ice breaker. Actually, tea was just good.

When she knocked on his door there was no answer, so she gently pushed the door open just to make sure he was alive. She couldn't explain the fear that he might not be.

He was laying face down on the bed, one leg still on the ground. Hermione made to leave, but the door creaked loudly as she closed it. Remus stirred, calling out sleepily, "Hermione?"

She jumped. He hadn't said her name since this whole ordeal began, and it was strange coming from his lips.

He slowly rolled over and propped up on one elbow, wincing and placing a hand over his wound. His eyes met hers and the strangest feeling spread through her belly.

_Sorry to have woke you, just wanted to see if you wanted tea?_ she meant to say. Instead, the only word that came out was, "Tea."

He blinked, still not quite awake, but managed a half smile and said, "Please."

She walked deliberately slow, not quite trusting her own legs. Remus sat up proper and leaned over, switching on the electrical lamp on the bedside table.

"Ah, a wizard who knows about electricity," Hermione said as she shakily handed over a steaming mug. She instantly felt stupid and very first year. There was nowhere to sit in the room save the bed, so she sat at the foot of it.

He could have said, _I've been living here for over a week, I think I can figure out a lamp._ Instead he offered another half smile and said, "My mother was a Muggle, and insisted that she have a few comforts in the house. Electrical lamps and indoor plumbing to name a few. The house was half Muggle, half magical, like me." His eyes dropped to his mug and he mused out loud, probably no longer aware that he was speaking out loud, "My whole childhood was in halves. And then I was half human-"

"You're all human," Hermione blurted. She blushed and looked away as he chuckled.

"If only the general populace agreed with you," Remus said.

She got up the nerve to look back at him, her eyes glancing over the bedside table. Mrs. Tonks had been very insistent that a picture of an infant Teddy be place on the table, as well as a picture of the newlywed Lupins.

The wedding picture had been placed face down.

Hermione paused, wanted to ask about it, and instead asked, "What did you mean last night?"

"What did I mean? Well, your lap was certainly more comfortable than the ground-"

"No, you said you understood."

Remus' face closed off, and she should have taken the hint and stopped. But, hadn't she already made a fool of herself that day? Clever witch, indeed.

"What did you understand?" she asked.

Unconsciously, his eyes glanced to the bedside table, to the fallen wedding picture he must not have been able to bear to look at.

"Falling out of love," he said quietly.

Hermione had to try not to drop her tea.

"Or mistaking fear for love," he continued. "Trying to return unrequited love. However you'd like to word it."

"But… Tonks…"

"Nymphadora never knew. And if she did, she hid it well. She deserved better. I always told her that, but she never listened to me."

Hermione could only stare in mute horror. Was it horror? Or was it more like sorrow?

"That's why I've stayed away all these years, you see. His mother deserved better, Teddy deserved better, he didn't need me in his life."

"He did," Hermione whispered hoarsely, suddenly yearning for her mother and father, knowing full well that that bridge would never be repaired.

"Oh, he's doing fine, I hear," Remus said, his smile sad and knowing. "Better off without a father who was in love with someone that wasn't his mother."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked.

His eyes were sad and ate away at her soul in a way that Ron's dark stares never did. "Because I understand."

She didn't remember excusing herself from the room, but she remembered sitting on her own bed for the rest of the evening, just staring at a spot on the wall.

Understanding? Was that what this was?

Harry must have come and went without her noticing. She came to, as if waking from a dream, when she heard Remus' cries as he changed, and she threw herself against her pillows and began to sob.

Her door must not have been closed all the way, because Remus whined at her from her bedside, before leaping up onto the bed and laying down against her back.

Her sobs died off after a while, and as sleep wrapped its comforting spell around her, she wondered who Remus had been in love with.


	10. X

X.

Hermione dreamed that she was tied down to her own bed, unable to move or scream. Above her stood Neville Longbottom, and he grinned in a way that reminded her of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Don't worry," he said, Remus' voice coming from his lips, as he raised his wand. "It'll only hurt for a moment."

Suddenly, he dropped his wand and his arms snapped to his sides and as he fell he screamed in agony, once again with Remus' voice.

Hermione started awake, almost falling out of bed. She looked around the room wildly, even to the floor to look for Neville. As it sunk it that she had been dreaming, she heard a moan from beside her. She glanced over to see Remus laying beside her, sweating and panting as if he had just run a marathon.

She realized that he must have just changed, explaining her odd dream.

And then she realized he was naked.

She threw the covers that were over her over him so fast that it beat the blush that crept up from her chest to her cheeks.

Under the covers, he said, "I'm sorry." He sounded out of breath and beyond the point of exhaustion.

"Whatever," Hermione said, trying very hard not to feel sorry for him.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"I have to get ready for work," she said, getting up from the bed and walking to the door.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said as she opened the door. "I don't think I'll survive the next moon."

She didn't dwell on those words until she was seated in her cubicle and the paper beneath her blurred strangely and she couldn't breathe out of her nose.

A handkerchief dropped on her desk, and she unconsciously wiped away the tears she didn't know she'd been shedding.

At the end of the day, she didn't know how she was going to return Ron's handkerchief to him.


	11. XI

XI.

At the end of another week of silence, Hermione received an owl from Mrs. Tonks, asking if Hermione and Remus would like to come over for tea. Hermione wondered for a moment why the invitation was for both of them and not just Remus. But, knowing that the odds of getting Remus out of the house was slim to none, she accepted Mrs. Tonks' invitation on the terms that tea was held at Hermione's.

Teddy Lupin, 2 and ½ years old, sat on one end of the couch, curled up in the corner with his knees drawn up to his chin, and he stared curiously up at the stranger that was his Papa. Remus sat in the other corner, drinking his tea and every now and again glancing down at his son.

"I just don't understand," Mrs. Tonks said quietly from the kitchen where she and Hermione had retreated and were now spying on the two. "He's usually not this shy."

"Remus has that effect on people," Hermione said dryly.

Mrs. Tonks wrinkled her nose slightly, and Hermione had a sudden flash of Narcissa Malfoy looking down her nose at Hermione. "You'd think," Mrs. Tonks said, "Remus would want to know his son."

Hermione thought about Remus' supposed impending death, and wondered if Mrs. Tonks should be told. She remembered the days when she would have told in an instant, because it was the right thing to do.

But she was older now, and liked to think that she'd outgrown being a tattle-tale.

"He probably doesn't know how," Hermione said instead. In all probability, it was probably true.

Mrs. Tonks chuckled softly. "Well, I suppose he has time."

Hermione drank more tea to keep from crying.

When they made to leave, Remus hesitantly placed a hand on Teddy's head. The boy jerked away and buried his face in his grandmother's neck.

Remus stared into the fire long after they had left. Hermione took a deep breath and said, "We could try St. Mungo's again. We're still weeks away from the next moon-"

"You can't fix this, Hermione," Remus said, not looking away from the fire.

"And you can't just give up!" Hermione snapped.

"I gave up a long time ago," Remus said. "Perhaps you should, too."

Hermione balled her hands into fists and raised a hand, uncurling it to slap him across the face. He caught it and swung her around, pushing her up against the wall beside the fireplace.

A moment passed. A moment, where Remus was pushed full up against her and his chest heaved against hers and she could hardly breathe. Her wrist was trapped within his grip, her other hand trapped between them against his stomach. His brows were drawn and his eyes dark, into what he meant to be anger but instead all she saw was fear.

And then, his voice heavy, he asked, "Why are you here, Hermione?"

She opened her mouth to answer and found that, for probably the first time in her life, she didn't have an answer.


	12. XII

**A/N**: No update last night, so two chapters today. Enjoy!

XII.

At work the next day, she dove headfirst into her work. Why didn't she think of it before, it provided the perfect distraction! Report after report, make sure every i is dotted and every t crossed-

"Owl for you," Ginny grinned as she dangled a note in front of Hermione's nose. "I picked it up for you on my way up. I'd invite you to lunch with Harry and me, but I think my brother's coming, and that would just be-"

Hermione stared at the note, and then glanced up at the clock. Was it really already lunchtime?

"You all right?" Ginny asked, noticing that Hermione wasn't listening.

Hermione shook her head and took the note from Ginny. "I'm fine, just trying to catch up on work."

"Everyone's worried about you," Ginny said softly.

Hermione sighed as she opened the enveloped and pulled out a parchment. "Do I look that out of sorts?"

"You've been awfully distracted lately. Anything particular on your mind?"

Hermione didn't answer, because it was all too complicated and she didn't really understand it all herself, a first for Hogwarts' Brightest Student Ever. The note in her hand didn't help matters either.

"Making dinner tonight, please be home at a reasonable time," it read. "-Remus."

"Well, that explains it," Ginny said with a smile.

"I didn't know he could cook," Hermione said. "Wait, what?"

"That," Ginny said, tapping the corner of Remus' note, "explains everything."

Hermione stared at the note, and then back up at the Cheshire Cat perched on Ginny's shoulders. "Explains what?"

"He's trying to woo you!" Ginny squealed. "Just like in those Muggle movies-"

"He most certainly is not!"

Ginny just grinned and patted Hermione on the head. There was a girl that was hard to understand- Hermione had broken her closest brother's heart, and Ginny continued to act like nothing was wrong. And now she was encouraging her to date another man!

"We'll do lunch tomorrow, I'll want to know all the details," Ginny called over her shoulder as she left to go collect Harry.

"Ginerva Weasley!" Hermione hissed after her, but the redhead simply waved over her shoulder and walked away.

Hermione scoffed to herself and reread the note, as if there was some hidden meaning to it that she didn't see. And she remembered that moment, that moment when he was pressed up against her and she remembered waking up to him naked and she remembered-

"I don't think I'll survive the next moon."

And she remembered that knowing he probably wouldn't survive the war, he married a woman he may have loved while being in love with someone else.

She folded the note in half, put it back in its envelope and put it in her desk drawer. She went to lunch with Luna ("Your aura is crying, are you all right?") and when she returned to work, she made sure to stay extra late before finally heading home.


	13. XIII

XIII.

It was well past dinner time when she Floo'ed in, and the cottage still smelled wonderfully. Remus was calmly seated on the sofa and he didn't immediately look up from his book when she came in.

"Did you get my owl?" he asked, folding back the corner of the page he was, closing the book and setting it aside.

"I did," she admitted. He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged. "Couldn't be helped."

He shrugged in return and stood, walking silently ahead of her to the kitchen. She held her breath as she followed, and let it out as a sigh in relief that there were no lit candles on the table.

Or was it disappointment?

_He's dying,_ she reminded herself as he reached into the oven and pulled out what could only be the source of that delicious aroma.

_He married a woman he wasn't in love with._ She lowered herself slowly into a chair as he poured her a glass of wine.

_He threw you up against a wall._ She took a bite of the chicken dish of which she didn't know the name. But at the late hour and having not been able to eat at lunch, it was the best thing she had ever tasted.

_Well, you were going to hit him._

"I apologize," Remus said. "I'm afraid it's dried up."

"It's fine," Hermione breathed, barely able to find her voice. "It's my fault for being so late."

"I suppose I should have placed a warming charm on it, instead of keeping it warm the old fashioned way."

"In theory, I think the end result would have been the same," Hermione answered.

"Perhaps," he agreed.

Hermione was quite aware that this was the first time they had used the table at the same time. She wasn't sure why this was important, but it was. Or, maybe, it was just the wine.

"I owe you another apology," Remus began, sitting back in his chair, not meeting her eyes.

"I have been a most ungracious houseguest," he continued. "And you have shown me nothing but kindness that I have not deserved."

_I've been prying into your past and judging your mistakes, and you think you're in the wrong?_ Hermione thought to herself.

"So, I'm sorry for my behavior," he concluded. "And thank you." He toasted his glass to her before drinking from it.

She smiled at him and also drank, finishing off her glass, feeling very much like a fraud.


	14. XIV

XIV.

She managed to avoid Ginny for three days. Because for three days she took an early lunch, and when she returned home it was always to a home cooked meal and wine and friendly conversation.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?" Hermione asked on the third night.

"Well, when you've been living like a bachelor for as long as I have, you tend to pick up such habits," he answered with a slightly drunken smile.

"My mother always tried to teach me to cook," Hermione said. "But I was always busy with my studies, I never had the time. And then, when I did have the time, she…"

"You don't have to," Remus offered generously.

"She didn't know me anymore," Hermione finished. "And there's nothing more painful than a parent not knowing their child."

"Hermione," Remus warned gently.

"You should try again with Teddy," she continued. "You should try to get to know your son, if you really are going to die with the next moon-"

"Hermione," Remus said again more sternly.

"-you owe him that much, if not more-"

"It would only be more painful," Remus said, "if I offered him something he could not keep."

"He could always keep it! The memory of you would be his to cherish always!"

"It's easier this way," Remus said, intending for it to end the conversation.

"Easier for you, you mean," Hermione corrected, and before he could reply she stood from the table, her head swimming for a moment. "Excuse me, I've had far too much to drink."

On the fourth day she let Ginny have her for lunch, and Ginny was all smiles as she said, "I take it it went well?"

Luna was frowning, and the frown looked odd on her usually serene face.

"Nothing happened," Hermione answered, trying to keep her face as neutral as possible.

"Oh, oh Hermione," Ginny suddenly cooed, bringing her napkin up to Hermione's face.

"I'm fine," Hermione insisted, trying to push Ginny away. "Nothing happened."

"It's okay," Ginny continued, wrapping her arms around Hermione. "It's okay."

"Nothing happened," Hermione repeated, wondering why her cheeks and now Ginny's shirt were wet. "Nothing happened."

She spent the night on Luna's couch.

On the second night, Luna joined her.

"You're in love with him."

"Hardly," Hermione said, swallowing back tears. Merlin, she was tired of crying.

"Part of your pain is the denial," Luna said, her face back to being calm, the corners of her mouth turned up into what was almost a smile.

"Part of my pain," Hermione said slowly, sitting up and hugging her knees to her chest, "is that he's dying."

Luna paused, and said, "Then you don't have much time, do you?"

Whatever she had done to deserve such friends, she would never know.


	15. XV

XV.

Despite the late hour, Remus was seated on the couch, simply staring into the fire. He jumped to his feet when Hermione Floo'ed in, and opened his mouth to say, "You're late."

"Yes," she agreed. He swallowed as his eyes searched her face. She knew her eyes were red and puffy, and there were probably salt stains on her cheeks, but she didn't have the energy to care.

"Hermione," he started. "I-"

"Don't," she said, shaking her head, her loose curls falling in front of her face. "Just don't."

He nodded, and followed her up the stairs to her room. She didn't know how he knew, he just did, and she was all right with that.

At the door, she paused and asked him, "Who was she?"

"Excuse me?" Remus asked.

She turned and looked up at him. "The woman you loved. Who was she?" At his hesitation, she pushed, "You owe me that much."

He stared at her like he had never seen her before, saying, "And here I thought you were a clever witch."

For tonight, that would have to do.

It was harder than it should have been. She probably shouldn't have let it continue, but there was a hole in her that needed filling, and if this was what he had to offer, then she'd have to take it.

She had read all those scandalous books as a teenager, the ones your mother forbade you from reading so you kept them hidden under your mattress. Hell, she had even once been a part of passionate love, and she knew what should have been pleasure was replaced with waves of pain, and she buried her face against his neck to hide it from him.

And when it was almost over, when she prayed it was almost over, he whispered, "It was you, you silly girl. It was always you."

The world stopped spinning, the clock stopped ticking, her lungs stopped breathing. Her heart seemed to be the only thing aware of Time, continuing to beat loudly in her chest. His own heartbeat was pressed against hers, and in her books they should have been beating as one, but they were off beat by a hair. Ba-dum-dum. Ba-dum-dum. Ba-ba-dum.

"No, not always," he panted into her hair. "Your sixth year, the Battle at Hogwarts. You were so bright, so brilliant, you had become a woman so suddenly, I didn't- I couldn't…"

_Tonks confessed her love to you that day,_ Hermione thought with dread.

"You would have hated me," he said.

She did hate him. She hated him almost as much as she loved him. She hated him so much she didn't ever want to see him again. The orgasm washed over her all the same, leaving her breathless and full.


	16. XVI

**A/N:** Double post tonight, because this chapter is ridiculous short and boring, and XVII is my favorite.

XVI.

Her life became a countdown. Seventeen more days till the next moon. Sixteen. Fifteen.

She dreaded going home, she hated laughing at his stupid jokes that weren't even funny, she hated sleeping in his arms every night, she hated that she couldn't imagine a future without him. Her future stopped at the moon, and then there would be no Remus, so for her there would be nothing.

The wound at his side had stopped spreading, but remained grotesquely open, the skin still a bleak grey.

He didn't remember how he got it. He had been a wolf without the wolfsbane potion, he shivered at the thought of what he may have done in such a state. He had usually been really good about keeping himself isolated, locking himself up somewhere safe just before the moon, but somehow he got out on the third night and when he woke up, there was a silver knife in his side and the remnants of someone's shirt between his teeth.

Hermione hated him and forgave him in the same breath, and with an eye on the calendar she decided to stop hating him.

With two weeks to go, Harry stuck his head into her cubicle with a wicked grin on his face. "Well, that was unexpected."

"What was?" Hermione asked, playing dumb. Of course Harry would know. A certain redheaded girl would be sure of that.

His grin turned into a frown. "I can't say I'm thrilled. I had hoped-"

"Despite knowing I had closed that door," Hermione said, her words clipped.

"Still," Harry said, looking like a child at Christmas that had asked for a broom and got a sweater instead. "You will invite me to the wedding, right?"

Another inkwell gone. She wondered when Inventory would stop letting her have more.


	17. XVII

XVII.

When she Floo'ed in that evening, she thought she had the wrong house, and almost stepped back into the green flames. Before her, seated on the floor, his legs spread wide, was Remus. Between his legs, but still not touching him, was tiny Teddy, and what seemed to be hundreds of photographs.

Remus looked up at her and offered her a half smile, while Teddy pointed to a photograph in Remus' hands, happily proclaiming, "Papa!"

Hermione felt her knees go weak, but she managed to lower herself slowly so as not to scare the child. Teddy finally looked at her, pointing to the picture again. "Papa!"

"Yes, 'Papa'," Hermione agreed. The child beamed at the praise. Hermione then pointed up at Remus. "Papa."

Teddy looked confused, pointing again to the picture. "Papa!"

Hermione gently took the boy's hand, turning it so that it pointed away from the picture to Remus' face. "Papa," she said again.

"Papa," the child said softly, looking back to Hermione for approval. She smiled and nodded, and Teddy, looking back to Remus, cried happily, "Papa!"

To Teddy it was just a word, a word with no meaning, a word that was now associated with a face, both on a photograph and on a person, but to Remus it meant the world. The poor man smiled so hard it looked like his face would break in two.

Hermione excused herself and stepped outside, pressing her palms against her eyes as if to dam the tears threatening the fall. Mrs. Tonks, apparently hiding in the kitchen again, soon joined her. As soon as Hermione had composed herself, Mrs. Tonks handed her a cup of tea she'd been holding.

"It's so nice," Mrs. Tonks said airily, sipping from her own cup of tea. "I'm glad he came around so quickly. With time, I hope we can be a proper family."

Hermione no longer felt like crying. Instead, she just felt sick.

That night in bed, she said softly, "You should tell Mrs. Tonks."

Remus sighed. "All these 'shoulds.'"

"Remus," Hermione pleaded.

"I'm trying, Hermione," Remus pleaded in return. "I'm trying. Let that be enough."

In her heart, Hermione knew it would never be enough.


	18. XVIII

XVIII.

Hermione stopped counting at eight days, because her heart couldn't take it.

Teddy came over most days for a few hours in the afternoon, before his grandmother would take him home for his nap. Hermione tended to stay at work for those meetings, for they were much too heartbreaking for her to witness every day. They were a reminder of a future Remus would never have with Teddy.

They were a reminder that Remus would never have a future with Hermione.

She came home as she always did just in time for dinner, where Remus would woo her all over again with conversation and smiles, before whisking her off to bed where she would suffer her inner battle of either loving him or hating him.

Though, she had stopped hating him. (How many more times did she have to tell herself that before it was true?)

His smile was the same, the conversation the same, until he casually dropped, "I stopped by St. Mungo's this morning."

Hermione's mouth went dry and she had to clear her throat several times before she managed a small, "And?"

Remus still smiled. "They're… trying something. A new treatment. They're optimistic."

"Shouldn't you be there, then? Come on, let's-" Hermione was out of her seat and had Remus' hand in hers before he stood as well, gently pulling her against him.

"I was already there today," he said. "It's a, ah, once a day thing. Besides, they wouldn't take me as an inpatient this close to the moon."

"No, I suppose not." She searched his face, looking for a lie or a threat that she suspected to be hidden there.

But his smile was sincere, his eyes open and honest. Could he actually be telling the truth?

"It might work, Hermione," he said, his voice never wavering. "I might… I _will_ survive the moon."

She allowed herself fifteen more seconds of doubt, before she let her heart fill with hope and joy. She jumped up into his arms with a yelp, wrapping her legs around his waist. He almost dropped her in surprise, but his arms held on to her tightly as she kissed his cheeks, his eyes, his nose, his mouth. Dinner lay forgotten on the table as he carried her up the stairs to their bed.

There was nothing but love in her heart that night. She gladly stayed awake to watch him sleep, her fingers gently grazing the bandages at his side. His breath hitched slightly in pain but he didn't wake, and she quickly withdrew her touch only to wrap her arm around his shoulders.

_This will take time, Granger,_ she told herself.

_But, at least you have time._


	19. XIX

XIX.

Bliss. She was in complete bliss, and her mood was contagious, spreading throughout the office like a wildfire in a dried forest. Even Ron could be seen in better spirits. At one point, the two ex-lovers were able to carry out a conversation without objects being thrown or evil death glares administered. Harry had feigned death by shock, and suddenly they were the Golden Trio again. Everything was falling into place.

The morning of the first moon, Hermione found herself making plans. She found herself hoping for a future. She caught herself wondering if they should have a wizard styled wedding or a Muggle one. Her parents had raised her Catholic and she had only stopped practicing when she became a witch. It would make them happy to have their only daughter married in the faith. But, wizard weddings truly were magical and a spectacular sight for both the audience and the wedding party. She wondered if she could somehow combine the two, and if so, where would she find a priest willing to perform a Catholic wedding that embraced witchcraft? Well, they could always have two ceremonies. That would certainly solve things.

Harry entered her cubicle slowly, dragging a chair with him. His head sagged, his shoulders bent, and there was something wrong with his face. The mischievous glint in his eyes had disappeared, and they were tinted red, his forehead littered with wrinkles and the corners of his mouth pulled downwards. Had he been crying?

"What's wrong?" she asked immediately, pushing the idea of a wedding far from her mind. She turned in her seat to face him as he sat in the chair he had brought with him.

For a moment he stared at the carpet, stained with magical black ink that would take the house elves weeks to magically remove, taking several breaths, before slowly raising his head. "Hermione," he started with much difficulty. Instinctively, she reached for his hands, resting her forehead against his. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. They were, after all, family, and such affections were appropriate and called for.

He said, "There are no secrets between us."


	20. XX

**A/N:** Last chapter. Thanks again to everyone for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it!

XX.

It was raining. It was fitting, somehow. Hadn't Ginny compared all of this to a Muggle movie? It always rained in those movies.

She forgot an umbrella, hadn't thought to bring one. She had barely been able to dress herself, and if Luna hadn't been over the night before to lay out clothes for her, she probably wouldn't have been able to.

Mrs. Tonks desperately clutched at Teddy, who stared at the picture at the front of hall, his questioning, "Papa?" echoing throughout the Great Hall.

She remembered Harry had been talking to her. She remembered her stomach bottoming out, her heart breaking in two, how she had struggled to keep from collapsing into hysterics in the middle of the office.

Professor McGonagall had insisted the service be held at Hogwarts. It had been his only real home, she had reasoned to the public. A werewolf without a home but the school that took him in. It made sense.

But Hermione remembered a cottage. A cottage that she had come home early to, to Remus, who had clearly not been at St. Mungo's that day, had never gone in the first place. She remembered screaming, she remembered throwing framed photos and maybe a lamp. She remembered even tossing a few hexes his direction.

In truth, McGonagall had done it for Hermione's sake. The poor girl wouldn't have been able to play hostess to a house full of guests. She could barely stand in the front of hall to accept everyone's words for her and Mrs. Tonks. Harry, never leaving her side, was probably the only reason she was even able to stand.

Hermione remembered Remus had wrestled her wand away from her, had held her tightly against his chest while she continued to scream, pounding her fists against him. She remembered he had refused to let go.

Harry spoke in front of everyone. His speech may have been moving. It may have told the truth. It may have told a lie, which would have been fitting, because most of _his_ life, he had spent lying. Hermione hadn't heard a word of it.

All Hermione could hear was the sound of Remus' heart pounding in her ears, out of sync with her own. She remembered her knees had given out, and as he held her on the ground, he had said, "I wanted you to be happy. Even if it was just for a short time. You deserved to be happy. And I couldn't… I never could. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Remus Lupin was buried in the cemetery outside of Hogsmeade. A small marker had been placed in the space next to his grave a few years before for Sirius Black. It was fitting. It was all fitting.

Harry left her side for one moment to speak with Mrs. Tonks. He took Teddy, too young to understand what was happening and scared by the way the adults were acting, into his arms as he spoke in a low, quiet voice.

Hermione stared dumbly at the grave where her heart was buried. The rain poured down on her, drenching her hair and clothes. She could have cast a spell to protect her from it. But, it was fitting, so she didn't.

And then, suddenly, the rain stopped. It took moments before her brain was able to comprehend that, and almost just as long for her to raise her head to look up.

Above her was a black umbrella and beside her was Ron Weasley. His eyes were watching her carefully, unsure of what to do or say. She stared back.

Remus had held her tightly as the sun set. Kept her close and whispered, "I love you, you silly girl, you clever little witch."

And she understood. Finally, remembering and loving Remus and looking at Ron, she understood.

"C'mon," Ron said finally, draping an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Let's get you home."


End file.
